


Easy As Pie

by SeeNashWrite



Category: Pushing Daisies, Supernatural
Genre: Adventure, Behind-the-scenes canon compliant, Friendship, Gen, Humor, On-the-hunt, Teamwork, The Family Business
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 06:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10894077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeNashWrite/pseuds/SeeNashWrite
Summary: Herein lies a tale of the Winchester brothers, who are investigating the story of a zombie being harbored in an unusual eatery called The Pie Hole.





	Easy As Pie

**Author's Note:**

> The facts are these - If you've never seen "Pushing Daisies", this might leave you wanting, possibly feeling a bit like an angel lacking understanding with regard to references and verbiage and tone. Watch "Pushing Daisies" (for free!) at CW SEED.

[NOTE: The Narrator's words are in _**Bold Italics**_ ]

* * *

* * *

 

.

_**At this very moment in a town not terribly far from Coeur d'Coeurs, a black Impala has brought two visitors to an idyllic little hamlet.** _

_**Sam Winchester is 33 years, 9 months, 17 days, 10 hours and 16 minutes old.** _

_**His older brother Dean is 38 years, 2 months, 20 days, 9 hours, and 18 minutes old.** _

_**And not one minute older.** _

***SPLAT!***

_**Dean had spotted The Pie Hole and was enraptured, overtaken, bewitched, intoxicated at the sight of his soulmates waiting for him in the windows, and thus did not pay heed to the very large, very old-fashioned milk truck plowing down the street.** _

_**So it was that Sam found himself in a state of wonder. The wondering regarded how he could possibly be finding himself in this situation.**_ _**Again.**_ _**And he wondered why there existed a museum-worthy milk delivery truck in this strange little place.**_ _**Or, at all.**_

_**Sam also wondered why, apart from the occasional dialogue, this case seemed to be accompanied by a narrator.**_ _**Suddenly, a man exactly one inch taller than Sam came rushing out of the fanciful eatery that had so captivated his older brother and knelt by said older brother's corpse.**_

"Is it very important that he lives?" the man with the large eyebrows asked Sam.

Sam's own eyebrows raised in astonishment as he slowly nodded his head.

"There may be enough squirrels…" the nervous man muttered.

_**Nervously**_.

Sam glanced around, putting a hand on the gun tucked in his waistband, hidden under his suit jacket. As the voice from nowhere went on, he pulled it out and began aiming down the empty street, then up at closed, curtained windows, then back down at innocent trashcans and an unsuspecting fire hydrant.

_**It seemed that one Greer Garmin-Gelleher, a local arborist, had worked wonders on the trees in the small park just up the block from The Pie Hole and as a result, dozens upon dozens of squirrel families had set up shop, fiercely foraging, then making dozens upon dozens of little squirrels.** _

_**They wreaked havoc, exploring neighboring apartment attic spaces and scaring cats and children, and seemed to gain arrogance when the bumbling animal control dispatchees failed to capture even one bushy menace. That, however, is another tale.** _

_**Sam now picked up Dean's body**_.

"Sam did what, now?" Sam asked the air.

"I can help," the aproned man told Sam. "We just need to get him to the park."

**_Sam now picked up Dean's body_ ** **.**

Huffing at The Narrator, Sam returned his gun to his waistband, picked up Dean's body, and tossed him over a shoulder. Then Sam spoke to the would-be helper with more than a little glare from his eyes.

"You better start talking, and I mean right now. I have a gun."

"I noticed. It's a nice one."

A pause.

"I mean, I would think. I know more about gunshot wounds than guns–"

"Good," Sam said through a grunt, adjusting his grip on Dean. "I'll let you pick the spot if I need to shoot you."

_**As Sam carried Dean to the park with no help whatsoever, the man - who introduced himself as Ned, the owner of The Pie Hole - began to explain that he'd heard talk of supernatural investigators coming to town.** _

_**Well, more precisely–** _

"I think you two are here to find me. I've been threatened," said the pie-maker.

"Who threatened you?" asked Sam.

**_Sam laid Dean under a cluster of trees. The squirrels were practically growling at the intruders. Some began gathering walnuts to throw. They were suspicious of these super-sized bi-pedals_ ** **.**

"You're gonna want to go now," said Ned.

"I'm not leaving my brother," said Sam.

_**Sam's voice was quite firm.** _

"Knock it _off_!" Sam yelled up into the air with more firmness, hoping to shut up the voice invading his mind.

_**This was for naught.** _

Sam rubbed his forehead. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He looked to the pie-maker once again.

"Why do I need to go away?"

"That's the thing," Ned said. "It's why you're here."

"We're here about a zombie report - and you're not one."

Ned hesitated.

"I prefer to call them alive-agains."

Sam waited as a few moments passed, then finally prodded the pie-maker.

"What does that mean, Ned!?"

"I can raise the dead."

_**Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times as if he were trying to decide how to respond, when a kamikaze squirrel landed on his shoulder. It issued a battle cry before dragging teensy scratches down Sam's neck.** _

_**Making a mental note to check the date of his last rabies inoculation, Sam knocked it away.**_ **_This was quite ill-received, as the men noted a distinct uptick in the chatter amongst the trees_** **.**

"They're plotting now," Ned warned.

"So what did you mean when you said there may be enough squirrels?"

"If one minute passes after I touch something dead and bring it back, something else nearby dies. It's a trade-off. But I can't pick the trade."

Sam stayed quiet. He didn't need Ned to tell him what an awful burden that must be. He knew from life-and-death choices, deals made that had uncontrollable ripple effects. He knew all too well.

"This time I'm hoping it will be a something. Somethings," Ned added.

**_The pie-maker glanced up to the trees and Sam followed his gaze. The fluffy-tailed demons all clutched nutty missiles, seemingly poised to launch an aerial assault. The two men looked at each other once more_ ** **.**

Sam nodded. "So I should get away."

"You should get away," Ned confirmed.

_**Sam got away.** _

**_The delightfully congruous nature of the situation was not lost on Sam, that Dean would be saved in a round-a-bout way by squirrels. Dean would likely note the same, were Sam to be saved by a moose. Following an abundance of side-splitting laughter_ ** **.**

"Funny, ha-ha," Sam commented dryly.

**_Sam ran his hands through his luxurious mane_ ** **.**

"Thanks," Sam said with a little smile.

_**And back in the park, after a tap to the tip of his nose, Dean sat up, no worse for the wear, once more exuberant to be this close to true love.** _

_**Except he was not staring into an empty plate inside that marvelous eatery shaped like a pie.** _

_**Instead he stared into the eyes of a man with quite the worried face.** _

"Who are you?" he asked the hovering stranger in a very gruff manner.

"I'm the pie-maker," Ned answered simply.

_**Ned chose to leave out the fact that he was also Dean's resurrectionist, his life-giver du jour, though he had already made himself a hero in the elder Winchester's heart by way of his occupation.**_ _**It was then a series of soft plops began to occur all around them as squirrels went to meet their maker.**_ **_Dean did a brief double-take at the litany of rodentia corpses beginning to surround them before getting back on task with a simple request_** **.**

"Pie?"

Sam had gone all the way back down the block and was standing where they had started, across the street from The Pie Hole, when he spotted his very alive and very excited brother.

Dean had come running around the corner, a bright smile on his face, Ned following behind at a slower pace with a less-bright, more solemn expression.

"Dean!" Sam cried out, waving to get his attention.

**_For you see, while Ned was troubled over facts yet revealed, Dean was in love. His eyes were shiny with unwept tears of joy. The glistening desserts in the windows of The Pie Hole were whispering his name almost seductively. His desire was beyond measure_ ** **.**

"Okay, _wow_ ," Sam called out to the sky. "I am _really_ done with this!"

**_Sam was persistent_ ** **.**

Sam rolled his eyes.

**_The freshly reborn hunter then ran up to Sam, pointing excitedly to The Pie Hole, his own private wonderland which held his most divine wishes come true_ ** **.**

"Dude, pie!" Dean exclaimed, grabbing his brother by the upper arms. "I think I may have to move here."

"I think I may be schizophrenic," Sam replied.

The brothers followed Ned's lead, all three meeting up at the door to Dean's new idea of heaven.

"How old is that pie?" Dean said to the pie-maker, pointing to a specific one in the window.

" _That_ pie?"

"That pie."

"That pie is two hours, sixteen minutes and 45 seconds old. Forty-six. Forty-seven…"

"We get the point," Sam interjected.

The fruit-and-sugar-scented air poured out to greet them as soon as Ned opened the door.

_**But they were prevented from entering, as a horrified yelp shot through the sugar, highlighted by the sound of minuscule steps hitting the sidewalk at a feverish pace, headed right for them.** _

_**Those steps belonged to one Olive Snook, proprietress of The Intrepid Cow, which was dedicated to the fine art of crafting all manner of macaroni and cheese, from plain to exotic, made with any kind of noodle one could desire.** _

_**And the petite blonde was currently wracked with guilt**_.

"I am just _wracked_ with guilt!" Olive exclaimed, rushing up to them and then stopping cold in front of Sam.

**_Olive's tiny voice matched her tiny feet and tiny stature, as she stood exactly 4 feet, 11 inches tall. And she took a moment to gaze up at Sam, giving him a thorough once-over. A tiny giggle emerged from her tiny lips._**

"Olive?" said Ned.

She blinked, pulled from her admiration for the moment, turning her head towards her friend and speaking rapidly.

"Magoo had asked if he could deliver to The Intrepid Cow early today and I said yes and then one of my assistant chefs said he thought he saw Magoo run over something after he left, and I was scared to death it was all my fault and then I was scared to death that it was Digby."

"Yeah. Something got run over alright. _Him_ ," Ned clarified, sticking his thumb in Dean's direction.

Dean's brow creased, his gaze drawn away from the window at this revelation.

"I did?" he asked Ned, then looked to Sam.

"You died," Sam informed him dryly.

**_These words had passed between the brothers many times before_ ** **.**

Dean thought on this for a moment. "Huh. Like, all the way?"

_**It could be said that Dean Winchester was better at dying than he was at living.**_ _**Perhaps more accurately, it could be said that Dean himself often thought this to be so.**_ _**Sam Winchester did not comment on The Narrator's posit as he found it quite a sad thing to consider.**_

"Did you do the thing?" Olive asked Ned.

Ned sighed.

"Did you tell them about the thing?" Olive asked Ned.

Ned sighed more.

"You don't seem very shaken up, are you in shock?" Olive asked, but not of Dean, whose forehead was leaned against the window, surveying his options, biting his lip. She was speaking to Sam, reaching up and rubbing one of his biceps.

_**Olive's stature was at odds with her large amounts of bravado.** _

"Oooh," she said under her breath.

"We're used to weird things," Sam said by way of an explanation, stepping to the side a bit when Olive's comfort began to edge around to his back.

Entering slowly, Dean resumed ogling the offerings while Olive rushed forward, kneeling and hugging the dog that had just come from the back.

"Oh, Digby! I'm so glad you're safe!" she exclaimed as the dog wagged its tail and gave her cheek a quick lick.

A woman came from the kitchen and walked behind the counter, carrying a freshly baked pie, placing it carefully on a tiered stand.

Dean immediately walked over.

"What kind is it?" he asked.

"It's pear, with a little gruyere in the crust," she answered with a big smile.

"Ohhhhh…" Dean muttered, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

She laughed. "One piece, coming right up?"

Dean nodded, eyes still closed.

Ned locked the door, flipped the sign to "CLOSED", and then slowly walked towards the counter.

"Um, Chuck, I need to tell you something," Ned began, an eye starting to twitch.

"Chuck?!" the Winchester brothers exclaimed at once, eyes wide.

"Well, Charlotte, really. I know, it's a silly nickname for a girl, isn't it?"

"No… no, we just know a Chuck is all," Dean told her, then took a seat at one of the counter stools, watching as Chuck plated his piece of pie.

"Chuck, I really need to–" Ned tried again, only to be ignored.

"Nice suits!" Chuck commented. "You two here on business?"

She set the pie in front of Dean, along with a fork and napkin, which he practically snatched out of her hands.

"Sort of," Sam answered slowly, glancing over at Ned. "I'm Sam, and that's Dean."

Dean glanced up, raised a finger in silent greeting, then continued his assault on the pie.

**_Walking over to stand by Dean, Sam rubbed his temples, no longer bothering to address The Narrator, accepting his reality_ ** **.**

"Not so much," Sam said through gritted teeth.

"Sorry?" Chuck asked sweetly.

"There's this voice, it keeps telling me what everyone's doing, even telling me what I'm doing," Sam explained. "But then it doesn't tell me some things - it's only telling me what it can make sound witty or poetic or something."

**_Sam shook his head in amazement and awe at The Narrator's discretionary tastes_ ** **.**

"Nope, no, no, no - it's annoyance," he - loudly - corrected The Narrator.

"Oh, that's just your narrator," Chuck said, patting Sam's hand. "It's really nothing to worry about."

_**Olive and Ned and Chuck explained to Sam that The Narrator is different for everyone. Sometimes on special occasions, everyone is blessed with the same one.**_ _**And so that is how he should think of the words melodically tickling his ears: a blessing.**_ **_More or less_** **.**

"Yeah… well, _my_ Narrator should know that one of my specialties is getting rid of mysterious voices that come from nowhere, and I'm about to start handing out blessings, myself," Sam stated, glancing around with a not-so-friendly grin and narrowed eyes.

**…...**

"That's what I thought."

"At first, I wondered it was my guardian angel - well, other than Ned," Chuck said.

The lovely brunette's cheeks grew as pink as her cardigan when Ned shot her a tiny smile.

"Or, you know, maybe even a higher power, like God," Chuck continued.

"It's not God," Sam and Dean said at precisely the same time.

"My Narrator sounds like Stockard Channing," Olive said in a dreamy tone, rising and walking behind the counter. "We sing 'Hopelessly Devoted to You' all the time."

"I didn't know she sang that!" Chuck exclaimed.

"That was Olivia Newton-John," Dean informed them through a partially chewed piece of pie.

They stared.

Dean swallowed.

Chuck noted his now-empty plate, so she reached into one of the cases and selected a new treat.

"Here! Try a Cup-Pie. Coconut Chocolate Cream."

Dean's eyes narrowed at the chunky treat she'd plopped onto his plate. Then he brought those eyes to hers, suspicion written all over his face.

"I will leave you to it," Chuck said, a bit of trepidation in her expression as she slowly backed away several steps before turning, in the way one might behave when faced with a rabid animal.

"He is _very_ serious about pies," Ned commented in a low voice to Sam.

Sam then made a decision - he would be taking the lead on the case, since Dean was apparently only going to be good for dying and pie-ing.

Olive clearly knew Ned's secret, Chuck and Ned were clearly in love, so he had reasonably assumed they clearly must know about Ned's predicament.

Thus, Sam asked:

"Can we maybe get serious about this threat thing? About the zombie thing? I mean, exactly how many people have you brought back?"

_**Sam was mistaken.**_ _**(That dying and pie-ing line notwithstanding, that was quite good, well-played.)**_ **_Perhaps his Narrator could have prevented his error in revealing Ned's secret. Alas, we'll never know_** **.**

Sam tightened his jaw.

And Chuck's jaw began to drop as she turned her head to Ned.

And Ned's head dropped as he looked at his shoes.

"Magoo ran Dean over with the milk truck," Olive said, going to the shiny machine at the end of the counter and making herself an espresso.

Chuck turned to Olive and her eyes widened. "What?"

"Yup."

Chuck whipped back around to Ned. "But… but…"

"That's what I needed to talk to you about," said Ned sheepishly, coming behind the counter.

"Uh-oh," Dean mumbled to Sam, shoving more Cup-Pie into his mouth. "Now ya done it."

"How? Ned! Who took his place?" Chuck cried.

"The squirrels."

"The _squirrels_?"

"Oh, goooood thinking, Ned!" Olive complimented him, coming back over with her cup and saucer. "Those tree rats were out of control, kept digging the Almond-Pecan Brie-Right-Back Tortellini out of our trash down at the 'Cow."

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"They like to nut up."

Dean raised both eyebrows.

Olive huffed. "To get ready for _winter_." A pause and a giggle. "You nut!"

"But ALL of the squirrels?" Chuck asked, astonished.

Ned nodded and shrugged. "He's a big guy."

"Yeah, you should try carrying him," Sam pointed out.

"More like a growing boy," Dean said, holding up his empty plate at Chuck and grinning.

Her neck flushed and her cheeks flamed.

"What next?" she asked.

"What's your favorite, sweetheart?"

Sam covered his face with his hand.

Ned attempted a glare, though the persistent twitch took off its edge.

"Give him the Kahlúa Cream Cheese," Olive suggested.

Chuck nodded in agreement and selected it from the stand.

_**Dean looked over to Sam mouthing all manner of incomprehensible words, his expression practically post-coital.** _

"I'm going to our car," Sam announced to the group, "and I'm going to bring back all kinds of fun things. And _then_ I'm going to exorcise what is, I'm pretty sure at this point, a spirit who is haunting one of you. Or this place. Or this town."

Then Sam shrugged.

"Doesn't much matter. It'll be packing it in all the same."

_**Sam was a bit wild-eyed, making silly suggestions that certainly wouldn't work. No. They wouldn't work at all.**_ _**The Narrator is definitely not some sort of harmless, lonely poltergeist who doesn't want to cause mischief, and only wants to bring de… de… deliiiiiight….**_

Sam glanced around, slightly perplexed.

"Are you… was that a _sniffle_? Are you _crying_?"

**_Someone's cutting onions_ ** **.**

"Ned, _what_ is going on? You tell me right this instant, or I'm going to my aunts' house and I'm not coming back," Chuck said, and nothing about her indicated she was anything other than serious.

"They're here… Dean and Sam are here because… they're here to look into us. Me. You," Ned began.

"What?" Chuck said again, now in a whisper.

Olive had been sipping from her cup, then spat it right back in at Ned's revelation, followed by upping the ante on Chuck's reaction.

" _What_?!" she bellowed.

Dean and Sam jumped, startled at the booming voice that practically shook the pies from their stands.

"Is she just a giant pair of lungs inside?" Dean muttered to Sam.

"Holy moly, Ned!" Olive went on.

Then she turned to Dean and Sam.

"Are you guys feds? Like X-Files feds? You look like feds."

"How would you know what federal agents look like?" asked Chuck, briefly distracted from mulling over Ned's kept secret.

"You know, I'm going to go check on that pie, is there pie in the oven, sure does smell like it, be right back."

And with that, Olive dashed away to the kitchen.

"Wait, are you saying your gal here's the zombie?" Dean asked bluntly. Then he rolled his eyes, scooping the last bite of pie onto his fork. "Yeah, right."

**_Chuck's face crumbled like the crust detritus on Dean's well-scraped plate. It was rude of Dean to say it this way, and he darn well knew it. His mother would be ashamed of his behavior_ ** **.**

Dean's eyes darted around briefly, but didn't ask about the voice when he observed how right it was, noting the look on Chuck's face.

"Sorry," he told her, but only received a solemn nod in response.

Olive came out of the kitchen.

"I just got off the phone with Randy - he's going to take care of all the squirrels," she informed the group.

"Who's Randy?" asked Sam.

"My fiancé," Olive replied. "He's a taxidermist."

Dean frowned. "How many squirrels we talkin'?"

"I think about a hundred, give or take?" Ned replied.

"Is there that much of a market for real stuffed squirrels?" Chuck pondered.

"Oh, you'd be surprised," answered Olive.

"I wonder how that balances on the scales with five pigs?" Sam said, shooting a grin at Dean.

It was met with a scowl.

"I'd say that's at least six pigs, maybe even seven," Olive replied.

They looked at her.

She huffed.

"My recipes don't just have noodles and cheese - any ol' body can do _that!_ "

"Recipes like, say…" Dean replied, interested.

"Well, there's The Royal Mountie. Canadian bacon and bow-ties, tossed with a Yukon Jack-and-poutine sauce with extra curd, and topped with crumbled maple-candy-coated bacon."

**_Like no other woman before her, Olive had Dean's undivided attention_ ** **.**

"And then there's The Fiver."

Dean licked his lips. "What's, um, what's the–"

"It is love in a bowl," Olive replied with a wink. "Pecorino, Prosciutto, Pancetta, Porcini, and Pappardelle. Not to mention the times when I practically just fondue a wad of bacon-stuffed shells. Hello. I know pig. Our prized truffle-sniffer is my pet, Pigby."

"No kidding?" Sam asked. "How do you manage–"

"You just have to make yourself keep the work and the personal separate," Olive explained.

**_Dean and Sam might learn a thing or two from Olive_ ** **.**

Now Dean pointed at Sam. "First - we're going to The Intrepid Cow when all this is done. Second - Crowley never hears of this."

Sam once more grinned, but he nodded in agreement.

**_Now that the elder Winchester's head was clear of the fog brought on by the pie, the bright light of a question cut through the last bit of haze_ ** **.**

"And WHAT is that VOICE? Is anybody else hearing this?" Dean asked.

**_Dean got back on track and asked about the squirrels mentioned only moments ago_ ** **.**

"FINE! Third thing is, I wanna be real, _real_ clear on this whole I'm-back-from-the-dead-but-bye-bye-squirrels thing," Dean continued.

**_And though the pie-maker said this next part in his typically gentle tone, he unknowingly said the exact right thing to make both brothers' blood run cold_ ** **.**

"I granted you life after death, Dean. And I can take it back."

Dean blanched.

"Sam. What does he mean?" he asked.

"There's a price," Sam answered. "Something nearby dies when Ned brings back the dead."

"Not touching a dead thing twice means something else… maybe even _someone_ else… has to die," Chuck added, her voice very soft and very sad.

_**The sadness extended to both Ned's face and her own as they gazed at each other, with as much love as Dean had channeled whilst gazing at the pies.** _

_**And it occurred to the brothers that this meant the pair could never touch each other, else Chuck would be lost. Permanently.**_ **_Permanent death was a difficult concept for the Winchesters to fully grasp. Nonetheless, they did feel pangs of sympathy for this unusual zombie and her equally unusual reaper_** **.**

Sam cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

"Ned, I really don't want to push, but–"

"We're going to need to know some facts," Dean finished.

_**The facts were these–** _

"There's definitely a lack of facts," Chuck said pointedly to Ned, interrupting the voice Dean heard ever-more-clearly. Now that all his mental faculties were no longer focused on pie. And only marginally on the cheese and bacon Valhalla awaiting him.

**_Dean's eyes and brows darted up, around, to, fro, this way, that, his face twisting and turning, yet somehow remaining so handsome it made both Chuck and Olive swoon against the counter top, leaning on their elbows and placing their chins atop their clutched hands, uttering twin sighs_ ** **.**

"The hell?" Dean muttered, possibly questioning in equal amounts both the voicing and the swooning.

"Just go with it," advised a very resigned Sam.

And then they all looked to Ned, who began the explaining.

"We - Chuck and Olive and I - used to work with a friend, a P.I. here in town," Ned began. "I would touch murder victims, get the story on how they died, then touch them again so they'd go back to being dead."

"You guys are heroes, maybe collect rewards, yeah, got it," Dean cut in, trying to rush him along.

**_If Dean would be patient, his Narrator would be pleased to present a montage for him_ ** **.**

Dean rolled his eyes, took his brother's advice, sighed, and then said aloud:

"Knock yourself out."

_**Ahem. As I was saying, the facts were these:**_ _**Ned had told neither Chuck nor Olive about the threat he'd recently received, wanting to investigate further. And investigate he did, learning that the person behind said threat was none other than THE investigator about town, one Todd Cod.**_

_**Their friend, the town's former premier solver of mysteries, was Emerson Cod. He had handed over his P.I. agency to his cousin, the aforementioned Todd Cod. It was a fiscally sound decision, as none of the advertising needed to change - Todd Cod was a dead ringer for his cousin. They simply marked through Emerson's name and wrote in Todd's.** _

_**Emerson had moved with his daughter to Australia, funded by the success of his popular children's book series, "Lil' Gumshoe". Seeing as Australia is the second largest producer of wool, this made reasonable sense to his pie-maker partner, the pie-maker's true love, and the diminutive cheese connoisseur.**_ _**Emerson's love of knitting was only surpassed by the love for his daughter, and he found the yarn down-under to be—**_

"Don't give a squirrel's ass!" Dean proclaimed loudly.

"Thank you, that was getting tiresome," Chuck admitted.

"The point is, we all thought it was a good time to let it go," Ned concluded. "Our part in it. We didn't want anyone else to know about my… my gift, just wanted to go on with our lives."

"As it were," Chuck chimed in. Then she looked at Dean with a bit of a twinkle in her eye when she tacked on:

"My fellow _zombie_."

_**Dean had been served humble pie and put in his not-so-dead place.** _

"So how do you think Todd found out?" Sam asked.

"There's no way Emerson would have told him, no _way_ ," Olive answered with confidence, and Ned and Chuck agreed so heartily, the brothers believed them.

"Meaning somebody else around town must know about it, too," Sam concluded.

With that, Dean stood, wiping his hands and dusting crumbs off his suit, then tossing his napkin onto the counter.

"Let's take care of business," he said.

Sam gave a confident nod. "We're on top of it."

**_The Winchesters emitted such taking-care-of-business tones and assumed such being-on-top postures, reminiscent of what one might find described in a dictionary under "manly", that Chuck and Olive promptly swooned once more_ ** **.**

Ned huffed, looking around and pointing into the air.

"You know, I've always been nice to you–"

**_My apologies, Ned. I confess I am also swooning more than I would like_ ** **.**

"Apology accepted."

"Okay, here's what I think," Dean began, pointing at Olive. "You help… Randy?"

Olive nodded.

"Help Randy wrangle up the squirrels - the last thing we need is someone _else_ asking around."

Olive nodded again.

"And we–"

Now Dean pointed around at himself, Sam, Ned and Chuck.

"–are gonna split up, do some digging. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Ned and Chuck said in unison, but Sam was silent.

"What?" Dean asked his brother.

"You and Chuck should pair up and I should go with Ned," Sam answered.

"How you figure?"

"They know this town, the people in it," Sam pointed out. "Two fake feds are gonna make them clam up, but this way they've got a friendly face. Plus, you shouldn't be anywhere around Ned."

Ned nodded. "He's right, Dean - what if we accidentally bump into each other?"

Dean thought on this briefly. "Fine." Then he looked to Chuck. "You okay with that?"

Chuck smiled and shrugged. "Team Zombie and Team Colossus it is!"

Olive scurried from behind the counter and had opened the door only slightly when she stopped and turned, snapping her fingers.

"I think I just… hey, Sam?"

"Yeah, Olive?"

"Which way did the milk truck come? When it ran over Dean?"

Sam's brow creased slightly as he tried to recall on which side of him the sun had set.

"I was across the street, facing The Pie Hole, so… East-West?"

Olive let the door close and came back over to them, pure joy lighting up her face.

"I knew it!" she cried.

"Care to share with the class?" Dean asked.

"Magoo only uses that truck twice a day," Olive explained. "Once at the crack of dawn, to re-supply the supermarkets, and then once in the evening, to The Intrepid Cow, so I have plenty of milk for the mac the next day."

"The cow, how, what, now?" Dean interrupted.

"Sshhh," Olive scolded him with a quick slap to his arm.

Sam, Ned and Chuck grinned at one another upon Dean's rapid-fire facial expression reaction.

"Anyway," Olive went on, "the 'Cow and the markets are the dairy's biggest customers, he doesn't need that big ol' eyesore for the rest of his runs. So if he was still in that truck this evening, and he was leaving from the 'Cow to go back to the dairy when he ran over Dean… Get it?"

_**They did not get it.** _

Everyone looked at Olive blankly, when suddenly Ned spoke.

"East-West!" Ned exclaimed.

Olive nodded excitedly. "East-West!"

Now Chuck gasped and clapped her hands together a few times. "EAST-WEST, Olive, you _GENIUS_!"

Dean frowned.

"Up, down, forwards, backwards, righty-tighty, lefty-loosey, full cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, what the hell are you people talking about?"

"You know, I liked you better when you had your face stuffed in my pie," Chuck commented, crossing her arms and frowning right back.

_**Dean then fought a mighty internal battle.**_ _**He was biting the inside of his cheek in an effort to halt a stream of word vomit that would have included several tasteless and assuredly unfunny jokes.**_ _**Again, The Narrator ponders what his mother would think.**_

"Well she ain't here, now is she?" Dean shot back.

"You know what _is_ in that direction, though," Chuck said.

"Lemme guess - the office of Todd Cod, Private Investigator?" Sam asked.

The trio nodded in unison.

"It's late and everything's closed," said Ned. "So if we want to look into the Magoo thing–"

"And Todd Cod," Chuck added.

"– then there's sneaking around to do, and I vote we should probably do it now, put off questioning townsfolk til tomorrow."

"Yeah, it's too weird a coincidence," Dean said. "This Cod character and the Magoo dude, there's gotta be a connection."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

_**So it was that as Olive went to meet Randy at the park, Sam and Ned climbed into the Impala. They drove some fifteen miles away, over a bridge and then around some woods, until they reached Grandma's Dairy. Dean and Chuck, however, remained right where they were - only higher.** _

"The building where Cod's office is - well, we actually have a pretty good perch on our hands," Chuck explained to Dean as they went up the stairs.

She'd already shown him how she and Ned lived above The Pie Hole, and he got to see their quaint apartment when dropping off Digby and picking up Chuck's binoculars. And onward and upward they went, until they emerged on the rooftop. Then Dean's eyes went wide.

"It's not even a mile away, just a block or so, really, and since his office is on the top floor and the building is a little lower than ours, we have a– oh goodness, what's wrong?"

Chuck had cut herself off because while she walked over to the telescope near the ledge, Dean had remained by the door, staring at the line of pedestaled box hives that made up a modest apiary.

Chuck smiled. "It's my bee yard."

Dean glanced from the hives to her.

"My comb away from home."

Now Dean's eyes went narrow - puns were typically _his_ job.

"My honey pot!"

Dean stared. "I can't with you."

Unlike the pie comment from earlier, Chuck seemed to know precisely what she'd said based on the wiggling of her eyebrows and the widening of her smile.

"Don't worry, they're all buzzed out for the day. C'mon, let's get this cranking," she said, waving him over to join her at the telescope.

.

* * *

 

.

Meanwhile, Ned and Sam had stealthily climbed over the modest fencing at Grandma's Dairy, entering the large field and making their way towards the barn.

 

 

 

**_In the car, Ned had explained that the owner of the dairy for which Magoo served as delivery man was none other than his grandmother. Due to Grandma Magillicutty's advanced age, Magoo was practically running the place though he was not even_** **part** ** _owner._** _**This was because of Grandma's stance that every cow should be milked by hand - she did not believe in having the cows stuck in stalls, being milked by machinery.**_

_**Her cows were all descendants of the first little herd the Magillicutty clan had raised from calves generations ago.**_ _**Grandma wanted it done just as it always had been - because Grandma knew the milk tasted better when the cows were happy.**_ _**And according to Olive, Magoo had been grumbling about it for ages. Said with the milking machines, they'd be making triple what they were now, could hire more drivers, expand to other towns.**_

_**But both Olive and Chuck agreed with Grandma. They - and The Intrepid Cow and The Pie Hole customers alike - could taste the difference anytime either cooked with any brand other than that which came from the Magillicutty herd.**_ _**Sam immediately began to speculate that this could have something to do with the blackmailing, though neither he nor Ned were certain now how cows meant something was afoul**_.

" _Really_?!" Sam whispered to The Narrator, then promptly came to a halt and sighed deeply, as he'd now been the recipient of a different sort of pie for the third time.

_**Sam had enough forethought to remove his suit jacket and tie, but neglected to change his dress shoes. And though abnormally bright moonlight - par for the course in this strange little place, Sam supposed - was on their side, it didn't illuminate as much as one would desire.**_ _**That "one" in this case being Sam Winchester.**_ **_Some, possibly The Narrator, might consider this comeuppance for a grumpy attitude._**

"Let's get closer to the side of the barn," Ned whispered. "Should be safer for your shoes there."

**_The towering duo were fortunate to have an even taller stack of hay bales to hide behind, and it wasn't long until, there amongst the occasional mooing of the bovine army stalled inside, they hit -_ ** **heard** **_\- pay dirt._ **

"…..and things change, Cod!"

Sam and Ned glanced at each other.

"Magoo?" Sam mouthed to Ned, who nodded.

"Those investigators of yours? The paranormal ones?"

Sam made a little face but then shrugged. Close enough.

"Well when I was on my way back here from your office, one of the idiots ran clean out into the middle of the road! They're morons! They're not gonna get done what we need getting done and you _know_ what that means for your little scheme! It's like Grandma says - those dogs won't hunt!"

"Dogs?" Ned mouthed to Sam, who nodded.

Sam pulled out his phone, but Ned touched his shoulder to get his attention and shook his head. Then he made a motion in the air with his finger, circling it around.

Sure enough - barely any bars. But he took his best shot, sending Dean a short, simple, understandable text.

"…and I'm telling you that unless you get that pie-maker to lay off the fruit and start laying on the cows, your puppy plans are _over!_ "

And then Sam watched as a somewhat horrified look of realization swept over the pie-maker's face.

.

* * *

.

Dean frowned.

"Cod Dog."

"What?" asked Chuck, leaning up and removing her eye from the telescope.

She was seated on a small stool, keeping close watch on the windows of the P.I. office, as well as the building in general. Dean had been scoping the street with the binoculars. They wanted to make certain everything was good and vacated before they - well, _Dean_ \- picked the lock and started snooping around.

_**Yet now, Chuck observed that her new hunter friend was looking down at his phone with quite the quizzical expression, for his younger brother had sent what he found to be the stupidest text ever.** _

"Oh, not _ever_ , but close," Dean replied to The Narrator casually, then darted narrowed eyes side-to-side, considering how he was suddenly finding it normal to talk to a disembodied voice.

Chuck giggled. "What's that supposed to mean, do you think?"

"Well, unless there's a corner stand around here that's serving fish wieners, I guess Ned and Sam found out something to do with our friendly neighborhood blackmailer and some pooches."

"You know…. Todd _has_ made the papers off-and-on because he's been so good at recovering stolen dogs."

Now it was Chuck who was frowning.

"Come to think of it," she continued, "there's been SO many dogs going missing! For months and months! That's not normal, right?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Normal to you is gonna be a hell of a lot different than my kind of normal, and believe me - that's saying a lot."

Chuck grinned. "Fair enough."

Dean glanced around at the hives again. "We've got a friend who would love this, he's a big fan of bees."

Chuck put her eye back to the telescope as she responded. "Well, if he happens to have a rooftop handy and can get his hands on some friendly bees, I highly recommend it."

A tiny smile crept to Dean's face. "Yeah. Yeah, I know a pretty good place with a big rooftop. Even got a telescope hanging around."

"I'm beginning to suspect Ned got this for me just so he could spy on Todd," Chuck commented. "It was my half-birthday gift this year."

"Half-birthday?"

Chuck nodded, pulling her eye away to look at Dean once more.

"My aunts started it - back when they thought I was dead," Chuck explained. "It's more an anniversary, I suppose. They said it was because it was the day that was exactly one-and-a-half birthdays prior to… you know. _Prior_. Pre-nose dive off a cruise ship."

"So they know about the… about how Ned does the…"

"Mmm-hmm," Chuck replied.

And then she looked a little worried.

"They have nothing to do with this, I promise. Plus, they've been on tour, with their mermaid act," she added.

_**Dean asked nothing about this, wisely assuming he could consult The Narrator for this tale at a later date should he find it of import.**_ _**And then The Narrator could tell by the smirk on Dean's face that he was imagining "tail" instead of "tale". Nicely done, Dean - I let that one slip right by**_.

Dean reassured her he wasn't suspicious of her family, then walked back over to the ledge and put the binoculars to his eyes. Chuck followed suit with the telescope. After a few moments of silence, Dean spoke.

"This isn't the first time it's happened. To me. The dying and the… I've got some priors, myself," he said quietly.

Chuck thought on this over a few more silent moments.

"You _did_ seem pretty relaxed about it," she observed, adjusting the focus on the telescope a bit.

Dean moved his head as he scanned another area of the street. "It's ah… it's weird, huh? Being back."

"I didn't even know I'd died at first. Did you?"

Dean didn't answer right away, but when he did, he said, "I knew. Every time."

**_This made Chuck quite sad._ **

"Thanks, Captain Obvious," Dean said to The Narrator, and then pulled the binoculars away to glance down at the top of Chuck's head.

"I'm sorry. I mean, I'd guessed it probably _would_ make you sad, but… with Sammy and me… talking about that stuff sometimes…"

Chuck looked up at him.

"You get on a merry-go-round? Just keep on bumming each other out?"

Dean nodded. "And getting pissed at each other, for him doing what we did, then him thinking I wasn't grateful. He'd just… you know, he's made a real mess of things, trying to do what he thinks is best for me, and… that. What you said, that's it. Merry-go-rounds."

"Just no horses or cotton candy," Chuck commented, the corners of her mouth turning up. She was pleased when Dean's mouth followed suit.

"I'm a muscle car and pie kinda guy anyway."

"I was mad at Ned at first, too. Well. Disappointed. Then mad and sad when I found out about the proximity person. And then there was the thing with my father."

"Thing with your father? Does that mean what I think it means?"

.

* * *

 .

**_Once settled back in the Impala - Sam's feet now in boots and his destroyed dress shoes now residing in the trunk - Ned explained his reaction back behind the hay bales._** **_It had suddenly occurred to him why Magoo had mentioned fruit._** **_While Olive had spoken the truth earlier regarding Magoo's routine, he did on occasion have to make a stop before heading to the supermarkets - and that stop was The Pie Hole._**

**_By virtue of their menus, Olive needed milk - and a lot of it - every day. And while Chuck needed milk to make certain recipes, a weekly delivery from Grandma's Dairy sufficed. The more frequent needs were the flour and the sugar and the butter and so on._** **_And of course, the flowers_**.

"Flowers?" Sam muttered under his breath.

_**But the one thing they never needed on a frequent basis was fruit for the pies. Ned could stretch several baskets of peaches for a week or two. A crate of bananas for three or four. A bushel of apples for perhaps a month. The Pie Hole's fruit never had to go bad - and only a handful of daisies had to die to make it so.**_ _**Ned had concluded that Magoo must have witnessed this during an early morning milk bottle drop-off.**_

_**The pie-maker's own daily routine was to deal with the fruit rejuvenation only when the shop was free of customers - late at night or early mornings were it, as he'd almost been caught one too many times. He never thought about who could be peeking through the back door.**_ _**Then the conversation between Sam and Ned abruptly took a turn, just as abruptly as Sam had slammed on the brakes, halting their progress across the bridge**_.

"I accidentally killed her father when we were ten."

Sam's eyes grew wide.

They were going over the bridge when Sam stopped for a pair of meandering box turtles.

An _unusually_ slow pair, even by turtle standards.

Sam had just been moving to exit the car so he could help them along to the river when Ned dropped his bombshell. The two had actually been having a conversation very similar to the one being had on the rooftop by Dean and Chuck, though The Narrator kept this to himself.

Settling back into his seat, Sam looked at Ned, who shrugged.

"It all started when I made Digby come back."

"That's not so–"

"Then I made my mom come back. And then next thing I knew, Chuck's dad just fell over in their front yard. It's how I learned about the proximity side-effect."

"Wow, Ned, I'm… jeez," was all Sam could manage.

"And then a few years ago? I made him come back."

**_Ned then uttered the understatement of the century._ **

"It didn't work out."

"How do you mean?"

"He was… he was what _I_ would consider a zombie," Ned explained. "He'd been dead for so long… First off, it was disgusting."

Sam stifled a chuckle, but couldn't help a little grin. "I bet."

"And he was different. Kind've mean. He was really mad about it, when we told him what happened. I figured he would be. But it was what Chuck wanted."

Sam stared at him for a moment. "Why are you telling me this?"

**_Now the pie-maker's expression and voice were filled with earnestness. And perhaps a touch of desperation And most assuredly love._ **

"Because she's not a zombie. Chuck. She's just a girl who got murdered, and… and it wasn't supposed to be that way. So if you and Dean need to take out something supernatural? Then it's me. Do what you want with me, I'm the problem, not Chuck."

Sam's brow creased.

"Whoa, Ned - hang on here, man. Dean and I aren't 'taking out' anybody, alright?"

Ned looked at him almost skeptically.

"There's plenty of people out there with… with gifts… and they do just fine. I mean, I know I haven't known you long, but listen - you've got a good handle on this, you know exactly when and where to use it. Trust me. I've seen what it looks like when gifted people let things get out of hand."

"But when I've make mistakes, there's really bad consequences, Sam," Ned said, the earnestness now sliding into grave seriousness. "I've been selfish."

**_A highlight reel of all the times in his life that Sam had felt and behaved precisely as Ned had began running on fast-forward through his mind. He had also been selfish. He had also brushed aside consequences to save the person he loved more than anyone else in existence._** **_He'd do it all again in a heartbeat._** **_And he told Ned so_** **.**

"I don't see it as selfish," Sam said. "I've been in your shoes. This is definitely _not_ the first time Dean or I have dodged death. We've just used… well, not the same _means_ as you do. When we've done it, though? There's been… there's been times we could've really screwed over the entire world."

"I just think the world - the _universe_ \- is a better place for having Chuck in it," Ned replied softly.

Sam nodded. He and the pie-maker weren't just on the same page - they were reading from the same book.

Both men exited the car, each picking up a turtle and carefully navigating down the small embankment to ensure the shelled duo were safely in reach of the river. They took the opportunity to watch the happy pair slowly get closer to each other before they made a move towards the water's edge.

"What can I say?" said Ned. "From the time I was a kid, from the first time I saw her, I was pie-eyed."

"I had somebody like that once," Sam told him, then paused for a moment. " _Several_ somebodies like that - people you love so much, you can't imagine life without them. So I get it, Ned. I do."

The light of the moon was briefly hidden behind a few stray clouds.

"There's only one thing I worry about," Ned said, and now he sounded so heartbroken, it made Sam wonder if somewhere in the dark, the pie-maker's eyes were filling with tears. He knew his own did, once he heard what Ned had to say.

"I just wonder what's going to happen when–"

.

* * *

.

"–when he's gone," Chuck said softly.

Dean had grown very quiet while she shared with him her greatest worry. He couldn't just merely sympathize - he knew _exactly_ how she felt.

"I tell ya, Chuck - I can't picture my life without Sammy. Can't do it, haven't been able to let it happen."

Chuck's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Don't tell me–"

Dean nodded. "Afraid if we're callin' a spade a spade here, then both the Winchester boys are… what'd you say Ned called it? Alive-agains? Try again-again-again- _again_ agains."

Chuck's face was awash with compassion.

"I'm sorry you two have had to go through that."

"Yeah, well…"

Dean had resumed his observations when not five seconds later, he found himself batting at Chuck's arm and passing her the binoculars with his other hand.

"Hey. Hey, look!"

Chuck did so, then glanced up at Dean with excited eyes and an equally excited nod.

"That's him," she confirmed.

**_Dean had spotted what he thought might have been a new shadow down the sidewalk, bulging out from a little alley, but didn't put much stock in it until it moved and a silhouette began to take shape._** **_Sure enough, there was Todd Cod, looking up and down the street, glancing around with every step he took, finally opening the door to the office building._** **_Dean and Chuck watched as the light went on in the front room of the office._**

**_He seemed to be moving around quickly. And then just as suddenly as he'd arrived, Todd Cod shut off the lights, moments later exiting the building and performing the same not-so-effective routine of keeping out of sight as he scurried back down the street._** **_But before they left the roof to investigate the office, Chuck did not bat at Dean's arm as he had hers, rather she took hold of it gently and slid her hand down to grasp his and squeeze it_**.

"You were the one who did it, weren't you? Bringing Sam back."

Dean just looked at her, his eyes answering the question for him.

"I'm going to tell you what I told Ned when I found out what he'd done."

"Thank you?" Dean replied, giving her a little half-smile, trying to cut the mood.

_**But while Chuck's face remained full of goodness and sweetness, it was also quite burdened. And when she spoke again, it was in possibly the sincerest tone Dean Winchester had ever heard**_.

"Every minute I'd been celebrating? They didn't belong to me. Those minutes belonged to someone else."

Dean kept silent for the moment, just listening.

"That first minute? The one he has, the one where he can take it back? Ned calls it 'death's grace period'. He really got it down, too, to where he sees it as a long time. And I think he's right - a lot really _can_ happen in a minute."

"What are you getting at?"

"It's good that it's a minute. The longer someone's around when they're not supposed to be around… Ned says the longer they're around, it's more likely that something will happen. Not necessarily because of _them_. Just… _because_."

"And?" Dean pressed, but he hadn't dropped her hand. He didn't know why. He just had the feeling she was about to tell him something he needed to hear.

"And…"

**_Chuck told him a secret. Her biggest one, he already knew. But this one might've bested it._ **

**_It was the secret of how she'd managed to start seeing those minutes as her own._** **_And how Ned was right - the longer someone's around who isn't supposed to be around, things DO happen. Except the gifted pie-maker had gotten the last part all wrong._** **_Things WERE happening because of that undead someone._**

**_Because of her. Because of Sam. And, to be sure, because of Dean as well._ **

Dean squeezed her hand one last time, and Chuck let go.

"Let's go bust into that office," he said with a grin.

And now they were moments away from completing that very task.

"Whatta you think we'll find in here?" Dean asked once they were inside the building, the lock had been picked, and Chuck's hand was on the doorknob, ready to turn.

"It'd be too much to wish for a document laying out on the desk detailing the terms of the blackmail on Grandma's Dairy stationery, _right_?" she joked.

"I mean, it ain't like we're gonna find dairy cows in there, _right_?"" Dean added on, chuckling.

**_Exactly 82 seconds later…_ **

"What is _happening_?"

_**Dean had finally found his voice again after being in an understandable state of shock for approximately 49 of those 82 seconds**_.

"We may've died again, gone to heaven, I think!" Chuck exclaimed breathlessly from her seated position on the floor, where she was practically being consumed by lightning-fast balls of energy.

_**The** _ **_not-so-dead_ ** _**hunter and the not-so-dead girl were surrounded by no less than twenty-two dogs, most of them small, including a baker's dozen worth of puppies. The grown members of the menagerie were lying about on a variety of fluffed and tufted floor pillows as if they couldn't have cared less about the unexpected visitors.** _

_**Though there was a Great Dane eyeing Dean carefully from Cod's desk chair. A very excitable Schnauzer humped one of his legs. And Chuck was accepting puppy kisses from a pudgy Golden Retriever on one cheek and a curly-eared Cocker Spaniel on the other.** _

Dean's jaw was set and his neck flushed.

"Cod. Dog," he said through gritted teeth.

"I'll say this for Sam, when he's right, he's–"

Chuck cut herself off, and she and Dean looked at each other with wide eyes, both pairs then turning towards the door as it opened.

And there stood Todd Cod.

Dean began edging his right arm around slowly, prepared to pull his gun if need be.

**_There was no need to be had, however, because while Todd Cod did react to the intruders, it was not to confront. It seemed comfort was on the menu instead - and Todd was the one in need._** **_He broke down into sobs, shuffling through the pile of puppies on and around Chuck in two strides, enveloping Dean in such a hug that it lifted him right off the ground._**

Dean shot Chuck a _HELP ME_ look, and she stood, patting the weeping man on his back.

"Todd! What _is_ all this? What are all these dogs doing here? Isn't that Patchy over there, Mrs. Luna's dog? And didn't Mr. Wainscott's retriever just have a litter?"

A sniffling Todd Cod let Dean down.

"I thought you were dead, I can't tell you how tied in knots I've been, drinking the pink stuff and the white stuff like crazy - which one are you, Sam or Dean?" he asked.

Dean just stared back with one of his indescribable looks.

**_The indigestioned investigator then turned to Chuck._ **

"I'm gonna tell you everything, I just want this over, Miss Charles."

**_And so he did._ **

**_Todd began to explain how, following the transfer of investigatory duties to himself from his cousin, the aspiring P.I. soon found himself in a slump. There seemed to be a shortage of cheating spouses and missing jewelry and just suspicious people in general. To make ends meet, he decided to take a different tack–_ **

Dean cut off Todd's explanation.

"Hey, shut your pie hole about the whys - I don't give a crap about your reasons. I care why you and the dairy douche are coming after my friends."

**_Hearing this made Chuck's heart so full, she thought it might run out of beats before all the happy could be distributed from tips-to-toes._** **_As for Dean, he was momentarily distracted as the puppy he'd somehow managed to end up holding licked along his jawline, making him shiver and grin._** **_He summarily cleared his throat, though it somehow served to make his already gravelly voice even rougher, then causing it to hit an even lower register._**

"Start talking about what this blackmailing's all about - and what it is exactly that you and Magoo think you've got on Ned and Chuck," Dean ordered Todd, probably more sternly than he normally would, but there was that puppy thing to account for and all.

**_And Todd's shoulders began to slump so much it traveled to his entire body, slumping him so far down his rump slumped right onto the edge of his desk._ **

All three groaned at The Narrator.

"Not your best," Chuck commented.

**_The Narrator plans to take five once there's certainty regarding that nasty exorcism business from before._ **

Dean closed his eyes, rubbed across his forehead with his un-puppied free hand. Then he sighed. Then he made a promise he hoped he wouldn't regret.

"If you can get us through this faster? Do it. And no exorcism. Deal?"

**_The rest of the facts were these:_** **_Todd's search for more in his life led him down a path of pup-related treachery. He was allergic to cats and birds made him nervous, so dogs it had to be. As Dean and Chuck had already come to suspect, Todd Cod, the number one finder of lost and stolen dogs had only become so due to kidnapping them himself - and, it would seem, keeping them in the office's side rooms until it was time for them to be "found"._**

**_That is, until he became too greedy and shortly found himself overrun. Todd's great need for cash and the even_** **greater** ** _desire for recognition that outpaced his famous cousin led him right into Magoo's scheming._** **_Magoo knew Emerson Cod had been quite close to the pie-maker and the once-reported-to-be-dead but suddenly alive-and-well Charlotte Charles. So when he'd witnessed Ned seemingly turning back time for various fruits one morning, a plan began to hatch in his mind._**

**_If Grandma Magillicutty wouldn't listen to reason about mechanizing the dairy, then he'd have to make her listen - and he was going to do it through her beloved cows._** **_Magoo was no fool. He had connected the dots - at least, the ones around the edges of the picture - to surmise that not only had Ned brought strawberries and a childhood sweetheart back to life, he had likely also brought corpses back to life. Specifically for the gain of one Emerson Cod._**

**_And yet the bodies at the center of Emerson's solved cases stayed dead._** **_If Ned could reverse death and give life back to things, then make them dead all over again, that was all he needed to know - he would put something in the water troughs to do the cows in, then show Grandma Magillicutty that her bovine beauties could be made well again._** **_Her eyesight was worse than his own - she wouldn't know they were actually grazing at the big cow pasture in the sky. And he was sure she'd finally hand over the dairy._**

**_The dairyman wasn't sure how Ned was doing these things, but he convinced himself that Todd Cod must. And when Todd couldn't say, Magoo watched him carefully, skirting his duties at the dairy to extend his time in the delivery truck, earning him more ire from Grandma but also earning him some primo blackmail material:_** **_Todd Cod was running a con._**

"So you're being blackmailed, too!" said Chuck.

Todd nodded, then reached behind him, picking up off his desk a small stack of photos that had a single sheet of paper clipped to the top, and then handing it to Chuck.

Dean scratched the puppy's head as he looked over Chuck's shoulder.

"Oh, you've _got_ to be kidding me," he said in a dry tone.

"This is so stupid," Chuck stated, the first critical thing either man had ever heard pass her lips.

**_And she was right - it was very stupid, just the thing Dean and Chuck had only wished they'd find._ **

_**As one might expect, the photos captured multiple instances of Todd's dog-napping, even the time where he'd struggled to wrangle the Great Dane into a Prius. They were fuzzy, not quite in focus, but it was unmistakably Todd Cod in every one. The note - written in Magoo's handwriting - was indeed on Grandma's Dairy stationery, and it detailed his intent to blackmail Todd with said photos unless he helped make Ned start working his magic outside of The Pie Hole once more.** _

**_Todd's solution had been to blackmail Ned with the summoning of the Winchesters if Ned did not comply - only unbeknownst to Todd, Sam and Dean had already heard of the supposedly-harbored zombie on their own._ **

Dean - almost regrettably - put the puppy down and then took the letter from Chuck as she continued to look over the photos. Dean scanned the rest of it, rolling his eyes at how Magoo had actually _signed_ it, then looked up at Todd.

"And you _believed_ this crap? Raising the dead? Fruit un-rotting?"

Chuck glanced at Dean out of the corner of her eye but kept quiet.

"Well _you all_ showed up to investigate it, didn't you?" Todd snapped in response.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Me and Sam? Ha! We're the ones who _expose_ fakes, my man. We call out con-artists. I mean, not the puppy-popping kind, but those jerks on TV that stage all that haunted house ghost crap for the camera. Psychics. Tarot card readers. All that jazz."

"And you don't think that voice we've all been hearing is as fishy as my last name?" Todd countered.

"First thing we've ever come across that may actually be real and hell, I could chalk that up to whatever's in those pies of hers!"

Chuck briefly seemed to be taking umbrage with Dean's statement, but she was thankful he was going to bat for them, and was thankful The Narrator was going along with it.

And also because, well, his lie happened to contain a bit of truth, though he didn't know it.

"I _do_ eat pie from you all on occasion," Todd said, casting suspicious eyes on Chuck.

Dean gave her an encouraging look.

"Well if you _must_ know, we put drops of homeopathic mood elevators in all the fruity pies," she replied, adding on a faux-offended huff for good measure. "And you _do_ love your Peach-and-Berry Cup-Pie Surprise, don't you, Todd?"

Now Chuck leaned in, punctuating her words via little jabs to his chest with an index finger.

"You do, and I _know_ you do, because it's not occasionally - you eat one _every day!_ "

While Todd stroked his chin and seemed to be considering this, Dean shot Chuck some side-eye - that particular delicacy had _not_ been on his binge-tour of The Pie Hole.

"What's the surprise?" he asked out of the corner of his mouth.

Chuck gave him a _look_. "Can we stay on track here, please?" she hissed back.

Dean raised his eyebrows once more.

Chuck sighed. "It's like a molten center in a brownie dessert, except mine is vanilla bean-and-honey whipped frosting."

"I love you," said Dean.

"I still don't understand what Magoo wanted to happen to Ned _after_ the cow-tipping," Chuck said, ignoring Dean and again speaking to Todd.

"Well, maybe he can answer that for all of us later - assuming Randy and Olive didn't kill him."

All three humans and the canine cadre turned at the sound of Sam's voice coming from the doorway. He and Ned made their way into the office carefully, to prevent furry escapees. The Great Dane sauntered up and stopped beside them briefly before positioning himself in the middle, sitting up nice and tall, apparently feeling as if his pack had finally arrived.

Ned did a double-take at what he supposed was the newest member of his and Sam's team, then went to elaborate on his human partner's statement. He opened his mouth, but seemed to reconsider and closed it, glancing up and around the room warily, almost positive The Narrator was going to jump in.

Chuck and Dean widened their eyes and gave mini head shakes at the same time.

So Ned took the hint and spoke.

"When Sam and I were coming back, we drove by the park and it was just in time to see Olive and Randy knock out Magoo. He was hiding behind a tree and taking pictures of them."

"What?!" Chuck and Dean and Todd exclaimed.

"How did they manage it?" asked Todd.

"Olive jumped on his back and Randy nailed him in the head with a bag of squirrel."

Ned said it in such a bland manner, like it was just an everyday thing, that Dean burst into laughter, so raucous he bent at the waist and clutched his knees. A beagle sprang up and licked his nose. He laughed even harder.

"Well all kidding aside, is Magoo okay?" asked Chuck.

Sam nodded. "But out like a light. We helped load him into Randy's taxidermy truck. They're taking him to The Pie Hole now."

"Truck?" Dean managed to gasp out.

"That's his motto–" Chuck began, and Ned and Todd joined in for the rest.

"Randy Mann, Traveling Taxidermist: I'll Bring The Stuffing To You."

Dean stood up, trying not to choke on the last of his laughs, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Dean and I have explained to Todd that Magoo is full of… stuffing… and that what he's said about Ned is a total sack of… squirrel," Chuck said, giving Ned and Sam pointed looks.

"And Ned - I can't tell you how sorry I am, Magoo had me by the nu… the, ah, squirrels," said Todd.

"Listen, let's just get back over to The Pie Hole and finish this, can we?" Dean asked, and everyone - including the Dane - nodded in agreement.

"Say, you got any more of those peach–" Todd began to ask Chuck as he was locking up.

"Yeeees," she cut in, but with a smile. Then she announced: "Pie for everyone! I think we've all earned it."

Chuck glanced down at the Dane, who had calmly exited with them, and whom no one felt up to wrestling back into Todd's office. She gave him a scratch or two behind the ears.

"You, too," she whispered, and his tail wagged.

.

* * *

.

Back at The Pie Hole, they found Olive sitting at the counter, singing to herself as she flipped through the pictures on Magoo's camera. Digby was at her side. And there was Magoo, tied to a chair positioned in the middle of the floor, still out cold.

Dean elbowed Sam, then pointed with his chin towards Olive.

"She's _radio_ good," he whispered.

"No kidding," Sam whispered back. "She's _Broadway_ good. Wow."

"What the heck are those, Olive?" Chuck asked, pointing to the bottle-thick glasses perched atop her friend's head.

"These are Magoo's glasses - they were in his pocket, I didn't want 'em to break - you know how near-sighted he is," Olive replied.

"Well that explains the blurry photos," said Todd.

"And me," Dean commented under his breath.

"Where's Randy?" Ned asked.

"He tied up our blind blackmailer here, then had to get those squirrels back to his place," she replied. "Besides, I have Digby to help keep me safe."

"Can't hurt, but I couldn't honestly say that you need any help looking out for yourself - way to go back there, Olive," Sam told her, holding up his hand for a high-five, which she met with her own hand happily.

"Thank you!" she beamed.

The Dane and Digby sniffed at each other briefly, then The Pie Hole's newest guard dog laid down next to the veteran, both keeping a wary eye on Magoo.

Ned offered to warm up the Cup-Pies Todd was craving so that Chuck would have the opportunity to add a little homeopathic sleep-aid glaze to the crust. And as he was dozing off in one of the booths, Magoo began to come around.

The Winchester brothers and the spirited trio started firing questions at the captive, all at once.

Magoo squinted his eyes in an effort to make out the noisy blurs. Olive sighed, hopping off the stool, walking over and putting his glasses on. And once his now-usable eyes lit on each of them in turn, he finally spoke.

"I ain't telling a darn thing!"

**_Perhaps I might be of assistance._ **

"YES!" everyone - but Magoo - shouted.

_**The facts - for the final time - are these:** _

_**Magoo's plan for Ned following the pulling-of-cow hide over Grandma Magillicutty's eyes were quite odious, indeed. He wanted to continue his chicanery, taking a hefty cut of The Pie Hole's profits as well as profits from Todd Cod's investigations - of which he'd insist Ned and Chuck play their parts once more.**_ _**And he'd found it fortuitous to spot Randy and Olive in the park that night, cleaning up a curious amount of squirrels.**_

_**Convinced Todd had failed in his mission to blackmail Ned on his behalf via the manipulation of the Winchesters, Magoo had been en route to reveal his identity to the pie-maker as the true blackmailing mastermind and proceed with making his demands.**_ _**But the peculiar actions of the traveling taxidermist and his cheesy fiancée–**_

"Hey!" Olive exclaimed.

**_–_ ** **_his enigmatic and quite talented fiancée made Magoo wonder if yet another scheme could be executed, bringing him even more profit from both of their businesses._ **

"What!?" said everyone at once.

"Maybe Ned made all those squirrels die so they could get mounted and blondie here could dip the rest in her cheese!" spat Magoo.

"Bleerrrgh," said everyone at once.

**_But now Magoo found himself hoisted on his own petard._ **

**_For little did he know that at this very moment, Sam was in the kitchen alerting the authorities that he and his brother had not uncovered other-worldly activity in this - sometimes - quiet little town._** **_Instead, the devastatingly handsome duo had stumbled upon a web of deceit, blackmail, and fanciful accusations, all stemming from the clearly confused mind of one Magoo Magillicutty._**

Sam grinned, pulling out his phone and walking into the kitchen.

**_And it would seem quite likely that Dean - a master at talking his way into and out of anything and everything - would be very convincing when he pointed out that perhaps Magoo's poor eyesight had led him down this futile path, his actions further fueled by a vivid imagination._** **_For you see, Dean would most assuredly then go on to explain to the authorities that before embarking on a career as a supernatural debunker, he was actually a psychologist, specializing in delusional disorders._**

**_Dean would definitely have them nodding in agreement over his suggestion that Magoo be committed to a psychiatric facility. For his own well-being._** **_Immediately._**

Dean leaned against the counter, a smirk planted on his face.

"You can't do that! You won't get away with it!" Magoo gasped.

**_Oh, but they did._ **

_**The new group of friends had a bit of a roving party that night - first waking up Todd Cod, of course, who was elated to hear that Magoo had been carted off while he slept.**_ _**They then dropped off the Great Dane, snuggling him into his spacious dog house in the front yard of his owner's home with one of Digby's treats, leaving a note on the front door inviting him back to The Pie Hole anytime.**_ _**And over a late-night meal at The Intrepid Cow, Todd vowed to return all the dogs first thing in the morning. Olive offered her assistance by way of Randy's taxidermy truck, then immediately realized this was likely a bad idea, not wanting owners to assume the worst.**_

_**But then she had a very good idea.** _

"You're great with those dogs, Todd. You couldn't have managed them for so long if you weren't. I think you should give up the P.I. stuff, start a dog charity! We'll hold a fundraiser! Sell some of Chuck's cup-pies and–"

"Oh! We could do cup-mac-cheesy goodness,too!" Chuck cut in.

"–so we'll do that–"

"It is so, _so_ much goodness," Dean cut in, barely looking up before leaning over his bowl of Macaroni Mania to engulf the last few bites.

"–and Ned can juggle–"

"I-I don't - I don't juggle," Ned cut in.

"–and I don't know what I'll do, but–

"Olive? You sing," Sam cut in, and a round of emphatic nods backed him up.

"I'll sing! And everyone will love you!"

A slow smile spread across Todd's face.

"That ain't a bad idea, little bit. And, you know… now that those squirrels are gone… what do you all think about kicking off the charity by using all the reward money I got and turn that joint into a dog park?"

.

* * *

.

While the Winchesters pulled the Impala around to the front of The Pie Hole, preparing to say their goodbyes and get on the road, The Narrator spoke to them one last time, since for the moment, the brothers were alone.

**_Todd Cod, the one-time wannabe private investigator with pie-in-the-sky ambitions, would indeed become the founder of Cod's Canine Charity, shortly finding himself almost_ ** **too** **_busy, a proverbial finger in every pie._ **

**_Olive Snook, following the vigorous response to her singing at both the charity kick-off and the opening of the dog park, would dip her toe into community theater whenever she wasn't busy helping customers dip her new invention of Pasta Pocket Fondue-It-Yourself into table-top buckets of cheese._ **

**_Ned and Chuck would get married, following quite the interaction with what Chuck knew in her heart to be her guardian angel._** **_She would find him on the rooftop one crisp fall evening, admiring her friendly colony of bees with the brightest blue eyes she'd ever seen. His touch to her forehead would serve to make her touchable to anyone of her choosing, from that very moment on._**

**_And as for what would happen to The Narrator?_ **

Sam and Dean shared a _look_ , but then both said in unison:

"Nothing."

Olive and Todd came down the sidewalk from the direction of The 'Cow just then, both carrying armfuls of foil take-out containers with the logo of a mooing cow perched on a brick of Swiss cheese on the tops.

"Nooooo…." Dean said in disbelief.

"YES!" Olive replied in a no-nonsense tone. "Now open a door on that black beauty so we can load this baby up!"

As Dean complied, Ned and Chuck caught Sam's eye from behind the display windows and when he saw what they had done, his jaw dropped and he quickly moved to hold the door for them.

And then when _Dean_ saw the ten-to-twelve carry-out boxes in _their_ arms:

" _NOOOooooo_ …."

"He's not actually saying 'no', is he?" Todd inquired.

"No," answered Sam, Ned, Chuck and Olive.

Once the food was securely settled, Todd extended his hand to Sam and then Dean, shaking and thanking them for their help. Then he headed back to his office to check on the dogs, a stash of bacon from The 'Cow tucked in his pocket.

And Olive reached up, almost yanking Dean down, hugging him tightly around the neck, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. She moved in front of Sam, performing quite the impressive vertical jump, giving him the same treatment before skittering away, heading to her own apartment above The Pie Hole.

Chuck enveloped both brothers in a warm hug, stretching her arms around them as far as she could.

"Thank you both, from the bottom of my heart," Chuck said once she'd released them.

"We really can't tell you how much–" Ned began, but Sam held up a hand to stop him.

"It's our job," he said simply. "It's the family business."

"Will you… is there any chance that…"

The pie-maker was still filled with trepidation as he glanced towards Chuck, then back to Sam and Dean.

"You don't have to worry," Dean promised.

"Your secret's safe with us," Sam promised.

Ned believed them, just as he believed their goodness did not stem simply from job-related dutifulness or carrying on a family tradition. His concern faded, transforming into a very happy smile. He and Chuck remained on the sidewalk, waving goodbye until their heroes were out of sight.

.

* * *

_._

_**And so, as the Winchester brothers drove off into the sunset with boxes of pies and cheesy pasta filling the backseat of the black Impala, they agreed that this was a job well done.** _

_**For the rest of their lives - and they were long ones, indeed - both Dean and Sam kept their promise.** _

_**They never spoke of what they'd seen to other hunters, or even to their spouses, their children, their grandchildren. Nor did they ever document their adventure in any files or journals. Never again did they visit that little town not terribly far from Coeur d'Coeurs.** _

_**And they kept the singing macaroni-maker, the charitable former detective, the pie-making reaper, the cheerful zombie - and even the friendly poltergeist - in their hearts, down to their very last minutes.** _

.

* * *

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 Feedback is fuel! Let me know if you enjoyed. -Nash

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration from the television show "Pushing Daisies", its concepts & characters of Ned, Chuck, Olive & Emerson created by Bryan Fuller.
> 
> All further disclaimers & errata are noted at this author's blog [see profile]


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